The smell of tea and rain
by Sarah-Jane-Longbottom
Summary: He sits by the window and continues to wait, always waiting, for his prince Arthur/Merlin


***forgive the terrible smut. Hope you like it. If you do maybe drop me a review *wink wink nudge nudge* but seriously. Feedback is always welcome***

He was so glad he brought that house on the hill. You know the one. Old, Victorian style cottage with a small picket fence, rose garden and ivy creepers climbing high on the walls. It was a beautiful house with a large back garden and attic filled with magic books. He truly loved it there. Not that he spent much of his time there. Most of it was spent on the streets, disguised as Dragoon and carrying that old water skin. He never felt at home there in that house. Nor did he on the streets but the air was comforting and the mindless chatter a perfect white noise.  
He enjoyed catching the bus into town and walking around to the library. Books where a comfort. Reminded him of old times in Camelot. Forging seals and studying magical beasts. The smell of paper and ink, of dust and damp. It was home. But not quite.  
He'd sneak down to the pub and sit in the corner. He never brought a drink, even even so much as a glass of water. He simply sat there and watch the bar man. His hair was long and dark. His eyes a sparkling. He looked so much like Gwaine that he couldn't possibly be. But still he watched. Every day. Just watched him clean glasses and pour pints if only to see his best friend laugh one more time.  
Once he had read his books and visited his friend he'd take the bus back to the hill. Only not to go home but to walk down the mud path from the bus stop to the lake. There he'd sit on the bank, hands twisting in his lap and wait. Always waiting. He'd sit till dark, sigh with defeat and go home.  
But not today. No, today it was raining. Large drops of clear water dropping down from the sky and pelting against the windows panes. That why he was so glad he'd brought that house on the hill. The one over looking the lake. Sure it was half a mile away but it could still bee seen, if not clearly, from his bedroom window. On a clear day it was a squint-and-look to see the tower and the waves but the rain had brought in a fog with it making even the clearest of shapes fogged. The tower was a faded rectangle and the waves where gone. But still he looked. Steaming cup of tea in his hand and dressed in an old white knitted sweater that slipped from one shoulder and his black boxer briefs he sat on the window sill and watched.  
The fog was thick and the rain was heavy.  
He took a sip of his tea, looking down at the brown liquid. Steam ran off the surface in waves. He looked back out the window with a sigh. There was no new shapes added to the thick fog. But there was a face. A male face with a strong jaw, blue eyes and blonde hair. He almost dropped his tea as he pressed a pale palm to the reflection. It did not sift. The glass was cold and uninviting but he felt warmth shot up his arm and swell in his chest. A kind of warmth that he had not experienced for many centuries.  
A smile formed across the lips of the reflection, white teeth and sharp incisors gleaming. His hair was damp, no, soaked. Water droplets dripped from his beast plate. Merlin blinked. The reflection was still there.  
He slowly turned around towards the doorway, eyes focused on the floor. Blue iris' traveled across the cream carpet but the halted when they fell on a pair of dark brown boots. His breath caught in his throat. His heart clenched.  
His eyes raised up the soaked breaches, clinging to muscular thighs, across shinning chain mail and up over long neck, covered in goosebumps. Blue locked into blue and a smile formed on both their lips.  
A breathy laugh rouse up from that metal clad chest and filled the room. Merlin stood  
"Merlin" his voice was deep and loud in the quite room. Dropping his cup to the floor, letting the brown liquid drain into the carpet, he ran to the blond, wrapping his arms around his shoulders he pulled him down for a bruising kiss. All teeth and tough, they pulled back breathless. Chests heaving.  
"Clotpole" he sighed, long fingers tangling in good strands.  
"Dollophead" Arthur growled, tugging Merlin's thin hips towards his own broad ones.  
"that's my word" lips crashed together once more. In a flurry of clothes and hands they fell into the bed clad only underclothes. Arthur lowered himself on top of his servant, hips and legs falling into blissfully sweet alignment.  
"Merlin" the king groaned between gritted teeth "How I have missed you" he rolled his hips to emphasis his pint, burying his face into that pale neck to stifle a resounding moan.  
"Not as much as I missed you" Merlin silenced his own groan. One hand tracked to those blonde stands while the other found a round butt cheek, gripping and pushing for more of that delicious friction "God I missed you Arthur" tears begun to well from his eyes "I missed you so much" hips stooped moving as tees spilled from his eyes. Arthur pulled away from where he was mouthing his servants collar bone to look into his eyes. Cupping his cheek in a callous hand he pulled those full lips into a soft kiss.  
"I'm here now ok?" he kissed the tears of those sharp cheek bones "I'm here" he rolled his hips again. A few more thrusts and Merlin was gone in a flurry of colourful swear words and incoherent whispers.

Then his eyes shot open. Covered in a cold sweat, he had kicked his blankets off leaving only one foot tangled in the Cotten, and one hand down the front of his boxer briefs, now uncomfortably sticky. He broke back into reality. Tears bursting free, running hot and heavy down his cheeks. He pulled the covers back around him, curled into ball and continued to wait.


End file.
